Explosive Chess
by Lord Luxion
Summary: When Sherlock and John are invited to play chess with a Russian billionaire, they find themselves in a very painful situation...
1. Prologue: Pink Bunnies and Bombs

**Explosive Chess (Set in the same timeline of the Modern BBC series of Sherlock Holmes, after the Hound of the Baskervilles, but the characters are different)**

_**Disclaimer: I do not own the BBC series of Sherlock, the copyrights are owned by Steven Moffat or the BBC or whoever filed for the copyright. Any Characters taken from earlier Sherlock works (the originals) or from the films (Any of them) are owned by the respective writers/directors etc. I make no claim to own any of the characters. Inspiration for the work is taken from the styles of some of the above mentioned productions, and their events, but I do not lay claim to these either.**_

**AN: Hello! This is my very first piece of fan fiction. I got into it because of a friend, I pestered her until she showed me what she wrote, and I read it and it looked fun. So I started writing my own! Secretdork (the friend) also beta'd this for me, so thanks, because I've been very annoying to work with. The story is about Sherlock Holmes, and he is invited to a very interesting game of chess. I know that's not much, but any more would spoil it. Onwards!**

**Prologue: Pink Bunnies and Bombs**

Chess. It was always chess. And explosions. Always explosions too. And sometimes even explosions and chess. Could he never have a change? Maybe one day when he was playing chess a giant pink bunny would break through the window. Not a bomb. But that was unlikely. Mind you, so was having a bomb smash through your window while you were playing chess. Twice. On the same day. Some people don't know when to stop.

The musings of a madman. They called him mad. Everyone thought he was mad. Or maybe brilliant. Or enigmatic or one of the multitudes of other words in the spectrum of human speech. Like fantabulous. But that's silly, because no-one calls anyone fantabulous. Except other crazy people. Or cartoon characters. But cartoon characters don't talk to real people. Well, no-one thought it was possible to be as intelligent as him. Giant cartoon characters. Well, you never know, stranger things have happened.

He spun in a circle on the office chair. Office chairs are always comfy. It's nice that he had a bit of comfort. It's painful to be tied to a wooden chair for hours on end. At least it was leather. Leather is always comfy. Like office chairs. And bombs. Except when they hit you in the face. Then there not so nice. Mind you, neither are acid bombs. Especially when they're sat right in front of you. Next to a can of petrol. But it was better than playing chess. Chess is boring. Life and death situations are fun. Until you die. Then they're not fun.

Sherlock was tied to a chair. But that's not what he was thinking about. He was musing about giant pink bunnies hitting him in the face. What a nice Thursday afternoon that would make. He wasn't overly concerned about being tied to a chair in front of a bomb.

"Pink bunnies! Boring! Tied to a chair in front of a bomb that's about to explode! Cliché! Acid! Dull! Why will no-one ever try to kill me creatively? That doesn't involve guns or bombs maybe! It would be nice… Hellllllooooo!"

No answer. Sherlock was bored. To amuse himself he decided to look at the timer on the bomb. It read 00:59.

"Ah. I swear it was on 20 minutes just a second ago."

Maybe now it was time to act, for Sherlock to analyse the situation perfectly and remove his bonds quickly and efficiently. Maybe it was time for John Watson's expert timing. That would be perfect if said John Watson wasn't tied next to him. In metal chains.

"Wh…. Sherlock…..I….. OH MY GOD IS THAT ANOTHER BOMB?"

"Yes John. Please be quiet. By all means panic but please, please keep it in your head. I am currently deciding what to have for dinner."

"WHAT?"

"Of course I'm not deciding what to have for dinner! I'm deciding on how the hell I'm going to stop that bomb! That may or may not result in dinner!"

"What's the plan? Is there a plan?"

"No…"

00:30

**AN: There is more to come… I will try to uodate this regulariy, work and mood permitting. So watch this space (DUN DUN DUN). Any reviews would be appreciated, and I don't mind critiscm as long as its constructive, thanks. Thanks for reading so far **


	2. Chapter 1: Newspapers

**AN: OH MY GOD! Positive reviews! Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed the prologue and added it to their alerts, it really does mean a lot to me! I love Fan fiction, I've only just discovered it and it is such fun reading and writing, so there will be more…**

**Chapter 1: Newspapers**

Another day, another newspaper. Funny things, thought Sherlock, ever so inconsistent. Always with a new story, a new opinion. Not like good old boring books. A bit like Sherlock really. Not the books, the newspapers. Nothing boring about this genius. Sherlock was happy. Too happy. No-one had tried to kill him today. That was nice. There was a sodden echoing as John Watson climbed the stairs and entered the room. Sherlock knew this without even looking up. John had a very particular way of walking up the stairs. He heard the man walk in and strip of his wet coat. Sherlock sniffed. John cleared his throat, and attempted a start at conversation.

"It's rain-"

"Yes John, rain." Sherlock effortlessly interrupted. He was bored, and John would listen. "An intriguing phenomenon of absolutely no interest to me whatsoever, considering I live in a house with a roof unlike cavemen. I imagine to whom rain would have bothered. For that matter, said rain is slightly sulphury today. Is sulphury even a word? No matter, I don't care, because if you haven't noticed I live in a lovely little apartment with an adorable lady who takes my money on a regular basis. She does have a tendency to get angry if I miss a payment though. However, I digress, I merely meant to point out that she is enough bother, but I put up with said angry little lady so I have no need to put up with sulphury rain."

"-ing…" John finished lamely,

Sherlock was reclining on the sofa with a boiled egg stood in the small cup holder balanced precisely on the arm of the sofa.

"Good morning Dr Watson, has anyone tried to kill you today?" Sherlock started again, after an awkward silence.

"Erm, no, Sherlock I…"

"That's good, there's still time though. Remember Moriarty is still after us with a vengeance…"

"Yes, very good, but Sherlock…"

"Or maybe not a vengeance. As he said, he's very changeable." Sherlock continued, ignoring John.

"Indeed, however I was going to sa-"

"He might want to be friends." Sherlock mused. "Probably not, as he is an evil genius but…"

"SHERLOCK!"

Sherlock paused in his tirade just long enough to take in the excited look on Watson's face.

"Yes…" He seemed to only just realise John had been speaking.

"I got a very interesting email last night. A rich Russian has made an offer we can't refuse."

"I can't believe you just said that… I take it said Russian is Dmitry Baranov, the rich Russian owner of Coldstream International whom has expressed a desire to challenge all half competent chess players in the world and win?"

"Yes. Maybe it would be good if you got in a warm-up round against me before you inevitable accept in order to bolster your already huge ego?"

"When you put it like that John, yes I would like to play you. Are sure you understand chess though? Maybe I-spy or Snap are more suitable games for you?" Sherlock's lips hinted a smile, eyes twinkiling with amusement as John rolled his eyes.

"Ha…Ha. I knew you would like that."

A game had already been set up by Watson. He had perfectly predicted Sherlock Holmes reaction to his goading. As they sat down, Sherlock smirked.

"John, you do remember which one is the pawn?"

"Very good. Is it that one?"

"No!"

"Hang on, no that is the pawn, stop messing with my head!"

Sherlock smirked and bowed his head, calculating the whole game in an instant, and how to beat Watson in 2 moves, taking into account exactly what he would do in his opening moves. They were all set to go, Sherlock being confident in his victory when their game was interrupted. Although, technically it hadn't begun but these were details Sherlock was willing to overlook, as the game had been interrupted by a large shard of glass flying across the floor, accompanied by the rest of the window. Something had been thrown through the window.

"Oh look!" grinned Sherlock, "Someone's trying to kill us! How marvellous"

Watson grabbed Sherlock by the scruff of his shirt and pulled him as he dived through the open door and down the stairs, followed by a fairly small explosion.

"Oh! Maybe they aren't! How depressing, I need a few assassination attempts to wake me up in the morning…"

**AN: Right, I've got a teensy-weensy bit of writers block, so Chapter 2 may take a couple of weeks. I wrote this one at the same time as the prologue, hence the speedy release, but don't get your hopes up for a chapter every other day Please take time to review, even if it's just a word to describe what you thought of the story… It tells me people read it and like it. Keep your eyes peeled…**


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